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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507674">Missing Kids, Squared</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese/pseuds/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese'>StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>MISSING: Tales From the Life of a Private Investigator [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Percy Jackson and the Olympians &amp; Related Fandoms - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV Outsider, Pre-Canon, and a lot angstier :(, especially from an adult's perspective, tfw two demigods walk into your office and you just have to Deal With That, there really isn't a way to write a lighthearted fic about this kind of thing tho, this is way longer than i meant for it to be, whoops</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 09:20:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese/pseuds/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two kids in Luka's new office.</p><p>And they are both weirdly intimidating.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>MISSING: Tales From the Life of a Private Investigator [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911502</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Missing Kids, Squared</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First things first: sorry this took so long. I've been swamped with schoolwork, and I was working on some other projects and other fics and... yeah. Sorry. Here's 2k+ words as an apology.</p><p>So this one focuses on Thalia, Luke, and Jason (but mostly Thalia) pre-The Lightning Thief. I tried to put in some jokes, but I guess I finally understand why authors say their characters do what they want, because Luka really, <i>really</i> wanted to call CPS.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Luka had a brand new office.</p><p>He had a brand new office, he had just moved to New York City, and he was <i>so goddamn excited</i>.</p><p>Plus, he had discovered this morning that he was apparently neighbors with the cutest guy he’d ever seen in his entire goddamn life. What was his name? Adrien? Alex? Anthony? Something that started with an A, that was for sure. Luka hadn’t been paying attention, he’d been too focused on the man’s muscled arms and handsome smile and the dark eyes you could get lost in…</p><p>Moving on!</p><p>New office.</p><p>And, currently, there were a couple of clients sitting in it.</p><p>Luka sat back in his (brand new!) chair, appraising the two kids in front of him. The blond still hadn’t spoken a word since they came in. The girl had been fidgeting ever since she had sat down, and looked like she was seconds from bolting.</p><p>There was a weird sense about them, though. Something that told Luka, undeniably, that these kids were not going to be pushed around, no matter how young and small and helpless they looked.</p><p>But they looked so very young and small and helpless, which almost negated the weird feeling.</p><p>Almost.</p><p>Okay, then. Always best to start simple, right?</p><p>“So,” he said, taking a nonchalant sip of coffee, “what are your names?”</p><p>If anything, the simple question seemed to make them clam up even more. The boy’s lips tightened. The girl’s hands froze, clutching as her bracelet.</p><p>Great.</p><p>“Look, I’m going to need you guys to give me <i>something</i>,” he said, trying for a reassuring smile. </p><p>“I’m… I’m Thalia,” the girl said reluctantly, ignoring her companion’s hiss. “Thalia… um, Grace. I– I wanted…” she trailed off, looking at the boy for help. He only raised her eyebrows at her.</p><p>Letting out a little scoff, Thalia turned back to Luka.</p><p>“Look, you’re a PI, right?” she asked.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“You gotta help me.”</p><p>Luka lifted his eyebrows, and the girl paled. </p><p>“I mean… <i>please</i> help me,” she said quickly. “I’m… looking for someone. My brother.”</p><p>“Oh… kay,” Luka said, taking in the kids’ skinny frames and twitchy eyes. </p><p>Hmm.</p><p>“When was the last time you saw him?”</p><p>Thalia bit her lip. “Three years ago.”</p><p>“Three… Thalia, have you–”</p><p>“He’s not dead.”</p><p>
  <i>Kid’s definitely dead.</i>
</p><p>“Sure,” Luka said.</p><p>“So can you find him?”</p><p>“Yeah…” Luka said, wincing a little, because he really did feel bad for these kids, but… “Finding him… that’s gonna cost you.”</p><p>Thalia bit her lip. The boy continued to look unhappy.</p><p>“I can pay you,” Thalia said abruptly, ignoring the boy’s squeak of protest. She dug in her red backpack, which was currently slung over the back of the chair, and came up with a fistful of green and– dear holy God was that <i>gold?</i></p><p>Luka stared. “Are you–”</p><p>“What? Wait! That’s all we have!” the boy hissed, wild blue eyes darting briefly to Luka. “The others–”</p><p>“Shut up, we can steeeeee…” she stole a quick glance at Luka, “ um, <i>acquire</i> some more later.”</p><p>“I’m not sure if you know how monetary transactions usually work,” Luka said under his breath, but he scooped up the crumpled bills and two giant gold coins. He’d have to figure that out later. “Can I have a description of your brother? Do the police have any leads about what might have happened to him?”</p><p>“My mom did it,” said Thalia with all the conviction of a judge. “I know she did.”</p><p>Luka swallowed. “Thalia,” he said as gently as he could, “I don’t want to upset you. But if other people have been looking, and the police have been looking, and it’s been three years… your brother…”</p><p>“He’s not dead,” she snapped again, but this time there was an edge of uncertainty on her face. Luka decided to let it go.</p><p>“Can I have a description?” he asked again.</p><p>“Oh. Yeah. Um, he’s blond. He’d be six now. He has blue eyes, like me. He had a scar on his lip.”</p><p>“A scar? How’d that happen?”</p><p>“Uh… he tried to eat a stapler.”</p><p>The boy snorted, and Thalia glowered at the table.</p><p>“It wasn’t <i>my</i> fault,” she muttered. “<i>I</i> was the one trying to get it out of his mouth!”</p><p>Okay. Blond, blue eyes, scar on lip. Six years old.</p><p>God. Six.</p><p>“Can I have an address?” he asked. “Email, phone number, something to get through to you?” Somewhere to send the death certificate?</p><p>“You can send stuff to my m– I mean our place in Westport,” the boy said. It was the first time he’d spoken to Luka. “It’s in Connecticut.” He rattled off an address, and Luka scribbled it down quickly. He frowned down at it.</p><p>He would do his best to find a body or a kidnapper or something, but it wasn’t going to be easy to tell this kid that her brother was dead.</p><p>Thalia offered him a hand. Luka looked at it for a moment before shaking it. </p><p>“Will you tell us if he turns up?” she asked, with a plaintive note of hope on her face. </p><p>“...I’ll be in touch.”</p><p>Thalia nodded once, shoved to her feet, and slouched out the door. The boy was quick to follow.</p><p>The second the door clicked behind them, Luka dove for the phone. With shaking hands, he grabbed the Yellow Pages and flipped through it.</p><p>CPS. He had to call CPS, right away. Before the kids got themselves into more trouble. </p><p>Where was the goddamn number?</p><p>
  <i>CPS, CPS, CPS, where are you!?</i>
</p><p>The phone rang.</p><p>Luka froze.</p><p>The shrill <i>briiiiiiiiing!</i> blared out again.</p><p>Luka looked between the phone book and the phone. He had to make a quick decision.</p><p>
  <i>Briiiiiiiiing!</i>
</p><p>Luka answered the phone with no small amount of rage.</p><p>“Hello?” he nearly growled into the phone, doing his best to keep up some veneer of professionalism but probably failing miserably.</p><p>“Hello,” a nasally voice on the other end answered, and Luka decided right then and there that whoever this person was, he hated her. “Are you the investigator?”</p><p>“Um...”</p><p>“The PI?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Luka said quickly. “Yeah, that’s me. What can I help you with?”</p><p>“I’m Beryl Grace,” said the woman and paused.</p><p>Luka wasn’t sure what she was looking for, so he said, “I’m Luka.”</p><p>“I know!” she snapped. “I had to look up your name to find you. You’re the PI.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Luka said. “We’ve established that.” He was becoming more and more convinced that picking up the phone had been a mistake. Thalia and her friend probably needed his help more than this woman did. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to put you on hold. If you could just wait–”</p><p>“I can’t wait! They’re burning me alive!” the woman snapped.</p><p>“Um, hang on, hang on,” Luka said, because he was suddenly certain that he had missed a key piece of information here, “Sorry, who is <i>they</i>?”</p><p>“The <i>tabloids,</i>” she said.</p><p>“Tab...loids? Ma’am, why are the tabloids–”</p><p>“I’m <i>Beryl Grace,</i>” she said again.</p><p>Luka was quiet.</p><p>“You <i>must</i> know who I am.”</p><p>“Um,” Luka said, mind racing. “I don’t really… follow politics?”</p><p>“I’m an <i>actress</i>,” she hissed.</p><p>“Oh!” Luka said. “Oh, yeah, you were in, um…” his mind went blank. He still had no idea who this woman was. “That… commercial?” he guessed wildly.</p><p>There was a long pause, and Luka took the opportunity to keep flipping through the phone book. Why was CPS so hard to find, anyway?</p><p>“Yes,” Beryl Grace finally said. “I did do a few commercials.”</p><p>She still sounded a little stiff, but Luka relaxed anyway, taking a sip of lukewarm coffee.</p><p>“Why are you calling, ma’am?” he asked.</p><p>“My daughter is missing,” she said, and Luka nearly inhaled his coffee.</p><p>“How come you didn’t <i>lead</i> with that?” he asked, once he had finished coughing.</p><p>“I thought it would be obvious,” she sniffed. “You <i>do</i> do detective work, don’t you? To find missing people?”</p><p>“Well, yeah–”</p><p>“I’ve heard you’re not bad,” she said, and Luka allowed himself a moment to preen.</p><p>“Well, ma’am, I’ve just moved to the city, so–”</p><p>“You can help?” she asked eagerly.</p><p>“I…” Luka glanced at the shut door. Every second he spent talking to her was another second Thalia and her friend spent on the streets, doing god-knew-what. “Can’t I call you back?”</p><p>“No, you may not,” she said haughtily.</p><p>“Oh, for… I need to call you back.”</p><p>“I don’t have that kind of time.”</p><p>
  <i>Deep breaths, Luka. Count to ten. Don’t blow up.</i>
</p><p>“Well, Ms. Grace–”</p><p>“It’s <i>Mrs.</i> Grace– I’m married,” she interrupted, and Luka took a moment to take another slow, deep breath and count to ten.</p><p>“<i>Mrs.</i> Grace,” he amended, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I can help you.”</p><p>“But they’re <i>burning me alive</i>,” Mrs. Grace said, and god, her voice was definitely starting to grate on Luka’s nerves. </p><p>“You said that, ma’am.”</p><p>She huffed. “I need to <i>find her</i>.” A pause. “I <i>love</i> her. That’s the truth, and I’m sorry if you don’t believe it.”</p><p>Luka rubbed at his forehead. “And how long has your daughter been missing, ma’am? Also, what did you say her name was?”</p><p>“About… three years, now.”</p><p>“Three <i>years</i>? Have you contacted anybody else about this?”</p><p>“Of course I have,” she said, clearly offended. “The tabloids–”</p><p>“Right, right.” Luka paused. “Okay, can I have a description and her name, please?”</p><p>“She's... twelve years old, now. Um, and she’s pale, sort of pasty, really… and she has black hair, like me. Very dark, very fine, looks good on camera–”</p><p>Luka was so, <i>so</i> close to chucking the phone straight out the window.</p><p>“And her <i>name?</i>” Luka snapped, finally allowing some of his frustration to leak into his voice.</p><p>“Oh. Thalia. Thalia Eurydome Grace.”</p><p><i>Eurydome?</i> What an unfortunate middle name.</p><p>Hold on.</p><p>“Wait, did you say her name was <i>Thalia Grace?</i>”</p><p>Click.</p><p>Luka stared in disbelief at the receiver.</p><p>“Did you just hang up on me?” he spluttered to an empty office.</p><p>And that’s when the door opened again.</p><p>Luka jerked his head up, nearly knocking over his coffee in the process.</p><p>The kids were back, and Thalia was offering him a sheepish grin.</p><p>Luka examined her face closely. Black hair… blue eyes… freckles… the age was right.</p><p>But what were the odds of that kind of coincidence? Of all the PI offices, in all the city, in all the world… what were the odds that Beryl Grace and her missing daughter, looking for her missing son, would come knocking on the exact same day?</p><p>“Why’d you come back?” he asked belatedly, and immediately after he said it it crossed his mind that that was not a very professional question. </p><p>Whoops.</p><p>But the kids didn’t seem to mind.</p><p>“Forgot our bag,” Thalia said in explanation, and for the first time Luka saw the ratty Jansport red backpack hanging on the back of the chair.</p><p>“Oh– yeah,” he said. “Yeah, take it.” He decided to try for a joke. “Promise I didn’t look through it.”</p><p>Neither kid seemed to find it funny, if Thalia’s suddenly pale face and the boy’s confused look were anything to go by. Ah, well. He’d have to work on his jokes.</p><p>“Listen,” he said, shifting his weight anxiously, “I’m going to help you, but can I ask a couple more questions?”</p><p>“...Okay.”</p><p>“How old are you?”</p><p>Her lips tightened, and she lifted her chin defiantly, but she answered. “Twelve. And– you’re going to find Jason, right?”</p><p>
  <i>God, she’s young. Way too young.</i>
</p><p>“Jason,” Luka said. “Okay, yeah. You got it.”</p><p>“All right, then. See you around,” Thalia said.</p><p>The boy slung the backpack over his shoulders and they started for the doorway.</p><p>“Hold on,” Luka said, and the kids glanced back at him nervously. “Just– you guys– you kids have parents, right? Somebody you’re going home to?”</p><p>
  <i>Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes…</i>
</p><p>Thalia and the boy exchanged a quick glance, and then she was offering him a dazzling smile. “Of course we do!” she chirped. “We live in Connecticut. Our dads work together here in the city, we’re actually on our way to meet them now. Thanks!”</p><p>Then she was dragging the boy out the door and vanishing into the hallway.</p><p>And then they were gone for good.</p><p>Luka looked at the closed door. </p><p>He looked at the phone book.</p><p>He looked at the phone. </p><p>Had the girl said her name was Thalia <i>Grace</i>, or had Luka made that up? Surely there were thousands of Thalias in the world. Had Beryl Grace said her daughter’s hair was <i>black</i> or had she said <i>dark brown?</i> Come to think of it, had Beryl Grace described her daughter at all?</p><p>Luka returned to his desk. He sat down in his brand-new chair. And he thought.</p><p>Beryl Grace was bad news. A little boy had probably died in her care. He didn’t want to know what might happen to Thalia if she was returned.</p><p>If they were the same Thalia, that was.</p><p>Slowly, Luka closed the phone book. He replaced it on the shelf.</p><p>Maybe, just maybe, he could overlook it, just this once.</p><p>But when Luka went to sleep that night, he dreamed of lightning storms and the hounds of hell and little girls turning into pine trees. He woke up with tears on his face and an awful feeling in his gut that by letting Thalia Grace walk out of his office, he had somehow made an awful mistake.</p><p>He didn’t go back to sleep that night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so i guess this wasn't as funny as the others, but i hope y'all still liked it. The next one should be more true to the tone of the series (i.e. confused mortal vs. random demigods).</p><p>Tell me what you think in the comments :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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